


Friend

by wiltshire



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 06:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17893244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiltshire/pseuds/wiltshire
Summary: His smile was charming, his words were sweet, and he had a way of making me feel important. It was like whenever I spoke, he hung on to every word. He made me feel like I had finally met the man who was perfect for me. In fact, I couldn't recall a single time we'd gotten into a disagreement. Victor was selfless. He truly wanted nothing but to listen to what I had to say. A few dates was all it took for me to be sure that I had fallen in love with him.





	Friend

When I met Victor, he was the sweetest man I had ever encountered.   
  
His smile was charming, his words were sweet, and he had a way of making me feel important. It was like whenever I spoke, he hung on to every word. He made me feel like I had finally met the man who was perfect for me. In fact, I couldn't recall a single time we'd gotten into a disagreement. Victor was selfless. He truly wanted nothing but to listen to what I had to say. A few dates was all it took for me to be sure that I had fallen in love with him.   
  
_God I was an idiot._    
  
My head pounded when I woke up. The ground beneath me was cold, and I felt something sticky under my head where it hurt the most. I slowly managed to lift it, raising a hand to check. I immediately froze as soon as I did. I noticed three things at the same time. One, there was a cuff around my wrist which connected me to the wall via a chain. Two, there were bandages wrapped securely around my head. Three, I had no idea where I was.   
  
It took me a moment in my bleary state to recall what had happened to me. Victor had invited me out to dinner again as usual, but this time he had invited me to come see the studio in which he worked. I was quick to accept, embarrassingly so. I had been curious for the longest time what his work was like since he talked about it often, so I was excited to get an opportunity to see it first hand.   
  
He had taken me to the studio, which was quite the drive out into the middle of nowhere. I hadn't thought much of it. After all, I trusted him. That was probably the first thing that should have raised a red flag. The second was exactly what I saw when he brought me in. The walls were lined with large pieces that he'd done. There were bookshelves filled with sketchbooks that he had likely used up. A few tables were scattered throughout the room, also covered in drawings. It wasn't the large quantities of things he had drawn though. He was a professional. This much was to be expected. What wasn't to be expected was just what was in them.   
  
Gruesome depictions of decaying and rotting flesh stretched across every inch of available space on the canvases he had chosen. They were all different. Some depicted simply dead bodies, others showing creatures that could only be cooked up in the darkest of nightmares. A few of them showed horrible twisted, and mangled bodies to the point where they were almost beyond recognition. The sight of them filled me with a disgust and horror that I couldn't describe. It made me want to back out of the building immediately, and Victor's nonchalance wasn't helping the situation any.   
  
I was scared. I felt like I was frozen to the spot, and when he gently placed a hand on my shoulder I tensed. He gave me a look of what seemed to be genuine concern, and it made my stomach twist. He'd asked me if I was doing alright. I remembered giving him a nervous laugh, brushing it off as nerves. This was the first time we had truly been alone, after all. He gave a soft laugh of his own in return, giving my shoulder a small squeeze. He told me not to be so tense. I tried to relax myself. They were only drawings. He hadn't done anything wrong. I was overreacting.   
  
I had mentioned to him that I forgot my phone in the car in my excitement and would only take a minute to go grab it. He gave me a small smile and as I turned away, I heard him say something under his breath right before I felt something heavy hit the back of my head.   
  
Next thing I knew, I had woken up here.  
  
I slowly sat up, the pounding in my head only getting worse when I did so. My eyes scanned the room around me, trying to get some idea of where I could be. It looked like some type of basement. The floor under me was cold concrete, and it seemed to be relatively clean. It looked like someone had recently cleaned up down here. There wasn't much to look at other than a few boxes, but they were too far away from me to reach or see inside of.   
  
There weren't any windows, so the room was illuminated by a few light bulbs on the ceiling. The only other thing in the room was a staircase that led to the floor above. Something inside me said I shouldn't yell for help. There was no telling who was around to hear me, and I didn't think I could get my voice to work if I tried. Before I could even make up my mind on the matter though, I heard the sound of the door opening.   
  
My heart nearly stopped when I saw who it was that came down the stairs. Walking down them was the man I had fallen for these last few weeks. It was the man who I had trusted and shared countless conversations with. Yet here he was, seemingly uncaring now that he had found me like this. He gave me a smile when he saw that I was awake and sitting up, setting down a small, black bag on top of the boxes. He'd brought down a metal folding chair which he unfolded and sat in backwards a few feet away from me. He wore his favorite red sweater, his hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. It was as if this was just any other day for him. I felt sick.   
  
"It's nice to see you up and awake, friend!" His voice sounded chipper as always. He folded his arms over the back of the chair as he spoke to me. "I was afraid that last blow had killed you, but it's good to see that it wasn't the case. You really did give me quite the scare for a moment!" Victor chuckled as if he had made some kind of joke. Was he serious?   
  
"Victor, I-" He cut me off before I could continue.   
  
"Now I'm sure you're wondering why you're down here! The answer to that is actually a fairly simple one, and it's that you made it very clear up there that I couldn't trust you." The smile dropped from his face and his voice fell flat. "I couldn't exactly have you ruining everything I've worked so hard to achieve now, could I?" His tone scared me more than anything else. This wasn't the Victor I knew. I wondered if the one I had come to love was ever real to begin with.   
  
"I don't understand, Victor. I would never do anything to hurt you, I was just surprised and-" He cut me off again with a cold laugh. His voice echoed off the concrete walls when he did.   
  
He looked me dead in the eyes as he spoke. "You were  _surprised_?" He gave me an ugly sneer. "No, I don't think that was all you felt. It was very clear by your face  _exactly_  what you thought of my work. In fact, I bet you thought it wasn't even qualified to be art." His voice dropped even further and he scooted his chair a few inches closer. "I bet you thought it was a disgusting waste of my talent because your small, pathetic brain couldn't handle the true beauty in my work. My work which represents the very carnal idea of fear itself. No, I'm sure you could never understand it. You're just not as intelligent as I am."   
  
I was in tears at this point. It was hard to believe any of what I was hearing or seeing. Victor had never acted like this in the past, and it was as if he was a completely different person. I finally found my voice again.   
  
"Why are you doing this? I thought I knew you. I.." I choked up, forcing back a sob. Everything he said was starting to get to me at once. He tilted his head, as if waiting for me to finish. I had to look away from those empty eyes. "I loved you, Victor. I don't know what you want me to say." The tears fell down my face, dripping onto the floor below. It felt like he was ripping out my heart and stomping on it. I didn't know what to do.   
  
Without another word, he opened the bag he had brought down with him, pulling out a small role of duct tape. He ripped off a piece before he rose from his chair and knelt down in front of me. He gently grabbed my chin, guiding my head so that I looked back up at him. His face hadn't changed. It looked devoid of any emotion, giving away nothing that he was thinking. My heart sank when he spoke again. "You truly are the most pathetic person I've ever met. I'm afraid I don't feel the same way." He slapped the duct tape over my mouth, making sure it would stay, before he removed both of his hands and stood back up. "Don't take that off. You won't like the consequences."   
  
Victor returned to his chair, plopping back down in it. He rested an arm on the back, placing his cheek on it. The other arm dangled at his side. "You know, it really is a shame. I had thought you of all people, would be able to understand my art. You were supposed to be different." There was a hint of frustration to his voice. I could only look on as he talked, unable to even attempt to respond to him. "You even dared to claim that you loved me after only a few dates where you talked about nothing about yourself and your worthless problems. It's like you don't even know who I am." He continued to get more frustrated, not even looking at me anymore.   
  
"It's not fair, you know. You didn't even give my art a chance before you turned up your nose. But.." He sighed, looking back down at me. "I suppose I'll just have to make you understand. There's always hope, Friend." He smiled. 

**Author's Note:**

> So basically Victor is a bastard and my worst oc.


End file.
